My favorite Archangel
by CastielsGirl2018
Summary: Grace's favorite had always been the Archangel, Gabriel. That is, until she found out it was all real at sixteen. Now, two years later, she had been hunting with the Winchester's. She laughed, she cried, she was force-fed demon blood. Everything has changed for her. So what happens when she has to call for Gabriel in the middle of a hunt? Why won't he leave her?
1. Chapter 1

Demon's lie. Angel's lie. Hell, even Hunter's lie. But I know who to trust, which is hard in this line of work. So if anyone ever asked me if I was sure, or tried to put doubts in my head, I would know. Dean and Sam Winchester are the only two I can truly trust. Castiel and Bobby. They were my only true family. So tell me...why is it that everyone I love dies?

* * *

I pulled my knife out of the demon's body, wiping the blood onto my pants. This was a mess. I sighed and continued farther into the warehouse. I had to do this quick if I wanted to get my wounds stitched up. Being only half demon, I didn't heal like they did. So I went through the assholes quickly. Of course, Crowley was smart. He had an army of demon's guarding his base. It was much harder doing this on my own, but the Winchester's were busy trying to find Kevin Tran. They trusted me to do this on my own, so I had to. I readied my blade before pushing a door open. Nothing. The room was empty. I relaxed before scrunching my nose. It reeked of blood. _Must've been a torture room,_ I thought. I stepped inside, and looked around. Tools littered every surface, and not one inch of the place was clean of blood. I was right. That meant that I was getting close. I turned to exit, only to walk right into a very painful punch to the face. I groaned, stumbling back. In front of me stood another dirty demon. He was smirking.

"Grace Rogers," he hissed.

I rolled my shoulders, wiping the blood from my nose. Then I glared at him. This bastard must be some kind of distraction while Crowley ran. Of course, Crowley wouldn't run from me. I shook my head. Doesn't matter. Holding up my blade, I lunged at the demon. He easily dodged, grabbing my hair as I passed. He pulled me up against him, dragged me to the table, and roughly slammed my head down. He then proceeded to twisted my arm behind my back until I dropped the demon knife. I grunted, putting my other hand on the table next to my head. This was very bad. I struggled, not really getting anywhere. _Dammit!_

"Wow," he said. "You were easier than I thought."

I growled in response. I wasn't to give the asshole what he wanted. He wanted me to cuss him out; to give him a reason to hurt me. So I kept quiet, thinking of a way out of this. The guy snorted and pulled me upright.

"Come on, bitch. Crowley wants to see you."

He suddenly slammed me down hard enough to knock me out.

* * *

The first thing I noticed when I woke up was the pain in my head. The second was the tightness around my wrists. Looking down, I could kind of see that they were bound. Of course, my vision was still blurry. I shook my head, groaning. Sam and Dean should never trust a hunt to me again. This is what happens. I blinked three times, and looked at my surroundings. A warehouse. That meant that Crowley had me. _Shit,_ I thought. The demon must've made sure the Winchester's couldn't find me. I groaned again and drooped my head. Maybe I could pray to Castiel. No, he's with the brother's. Gabriel? _Fuck no!_ Gabriel would never just help me. He would always want something back. I could get out this by myself. I looked down to see that there was a devil's trap at my feet. My resolve immediately crumbled. Earlier this month, Dean had the idea to test if a devil trap would work on me, seeing as how I'm only half demon. It did. With this information in mind, the boys left me in Bobby's basement for two days.

I sighed and closed my eyes. _Gabriel,_ I mentally prayed. _I'm in a bad situation. I need help._ I looked around. Nothing. I groaned, rolling my eyes. This was stupid. Castiel was too busy, so I had no choice but to rely on this bastard archangel. One, I might add, that never answers. Suddenly the doors to the room opened, and Crowley waltzed in.

"Hello, Love," he said cheerfully.

I glared at him, not bothering to answer. He was too cheerful. I hated it. He walked toward the table in front of me, and started looking at the tools.

"So, you just burst in here, kill my guards, and expect not to be punished?" he asked.

I tilted my head to the side.

"Just doing my job," I said.

Crowley chuckled. I bet he was pissed. Demons were under his rule. He was the king of Hell after all. So it must've irked him to know that I don't consider him my king. He tied an apron around his waist, and picked up an angel blade. My angel blade. My eyes widened, and I shifted in my seat nervously. Knowing him, he was going to make sure I suffer extremely. He walked toward my, putting the tip of the blade to my shoulder.

"You're job, huh? Those boys are a bad influence."

He shoved the blade into my shoulder, forcing me to scream.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: I am so happy with how many people have read this already! Make sure to check out my friend, DaniTurner2015, and please tell me what you think of my story! BTW, in this chapter, the narration is meant to be horrible. Grace was tortured for hours on end, and is very loopy from blood loss. Critique accepted.**

* * *

I will admit, it's kind of surprising how much torture Crowley can dish out in one day. You would think that he would at least take a break. I looked at him as he tried to decide what to use now. _He's not even tired,_ I thought. Sighing, I leaned my head back. Me, on the other hand, was exhausted. I wanted to sleep. Yet, he wouldn't let me. God, he wasn't even asking me anything, trying to get anything out of me. I think that this is just punishment for being one of the few rebellious demons in his "ranks." Not that I was _ever_ in his ranks. I was still, sort of, human when I first met him. I looked at him again. He was whistling, like all he was doing was gardening or some other normal activity. It was unnerving. Shifting in my seat, I cleared my throat.

"How long is this going to go on?" I asked in a bored tone.

He looked at me from the corner of his eye, then turned toward me. Now I knew why Meg, and pretty much every other demon feared him.

"Well, seeing as how I had to kill my last chew toy," he started.

 _Meaning Meg._

 _"_ I need a new one."

I sighed. Of course. He walked toward me, holding a new torture instrument. It was a needle, I think. Couldn't tell with my blurry vision. _Shit! I hate blood loss!_ Part of me thought of praying again, but I knew Gabriel wouldn't answer, so I didn't even try. Instead, I just tried to shift away from Crowley. Yeah, that worked really well. He put his hand on my wrist, pinning it even more to the chair, and inserted the needle into my skin. I groaned at the pain.

"What the hell is...?" I trailed off.

Crowley smirked.

"A new experiment."

I glared at him, but it had very little effect thanks to the haze now taking over. My body felt weak, and I could barely stay awake. _Bastard..._

* * *

When I woke up, the room was empty. My head was fuzzy, and I could barely think, but I knew that. I briefly wondered where I was, before remembering that I was Crowley's new "chew toy." I blinked several times, hoping to at least gain some of my sense back. No luck. Sighing, I drooped my head. I have never felt so...disoriented. So out of it. I felt like I would never be back into it. _Damn, if Dean and Sam saw me now...what would they do?_ Honestly, if I were them I'd...I would...I groaned, shaking my head. I couldn't keep my train of thought. My head was scrambled, and I didn't know why. What the hell do Crowley do to me? I took a deep breath, and began trying to break my bindings. However, I was too weak. That was I saw all of the blood. _What happened?_

"Do you really not know?" someone asked.

I looked up, and saw a man with brown hair eating a sucker.

"Who are you?" I asked.

He smirked and approached me. He was careful about, like he thought he was going to scare me. I tried to search my memory to see if I could remember who he was, but found nothing.

"You were the one prayed for me, Gracie."

 _I did?_ I looked down. I didn't remember that. But he must know me, because only people I know personally call me Grace. He snapped, and my bindings disappeared. My eyes widened as he gently grabbed my hand. He helped me up, wrapping my arm around his shoulder when I almost fell.

"Lets get you out of here," he said.

I nodded, and suddenly we were somewhere much nicer. There were two beds, a bunch of pictures and news papers, and fake i.d's. Looking closer, I saw my face on them. _What the hell?_


End file.
